“Here we go,” she beamed, as she pulled more clothes out for me.

“You looked like you were sucking lemons when you saw those dresses, so we’ll work up to that. This is much more your style. Now go and try them on,” she ordered, as she piled me up then pushed me toward the door to the bathroom. I was as shocked to discover that I had a definable style, as I was to find that I liked the outfit. The blue silk strappy top had a cleverly hidden support and was loose enough that it didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, but fitted enough to show off my curves. The tight denim hugged my figure and made my legs seem impossibly long. The cute heels, that seemed to tower because I was used to walking in flats, topped off the outfit nicely.

“Perfect,” Nikki announced as I made my reveal.

“Add some make-up and jewellery, and you’ll look amazing. If we get ready here, I can do your make-up.”

I must admit that by the time Nikki was done with me, I did feel pretty awesome. She had chosen a long delicate silver necklace with a small heart charm at the end of it and a pair of beautiful stud earrings. My makeup was natural looking and not too flamboyant, which was perfect for me. For the first time in a long time, I felt pretty. Not jaw dropping, stand out in the crowd attractive, but pretty. Nikki had done a great job, and considering that we hadn’t know each other that long, I was touched that she’d done so much for me. Of course, any self-confidence she’d given me with the makeover pretty much evaporated as soon as I walked in the door to the party. The place was absolutely packed. Grabbing my hand tightly, Nikki weaved us through the throng toward the kitchen. The smell of stale beer and overpowering aftershave was nauseating. Heads turned as we walked through, obviously drawn to Nikki’s stunning figure. She shared none of my self-doubt or aversion to showing skin. Her killer heels and figure hugging, strapless black dress left little to the imagination. She stood out in a way that I never would, but I was totally fine with that. Hers was a good shadow to stand in. As we reached the kitchen, drinks were flowing.

“What do you drink?” Nikki asked.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never had a drink before,” I replied.

“You’re shitting me,” Nikki exclaimed, slack jawed.

I shrugged my shoulder and smiled, knowing it was almost unheard of for someone my age.

“Okay, lightweight,” she sighed, taking a bottle of Becks from the fridge.

“Rule number one. You never accept a drink from anyone, and I mean ANYONE, who isn’t in our group. I’m going to start you off on beer, seeing as shots would probably put your untrained body into an alcoholic coma. You only take sealed bottles from the fridge and you open them yourself. Rule number two. You don’t go off on your own with any of the guys here. Most of them are decent, but it only takes one stupid arsehole to convince himself he’s God’s gift, and that ‘no’ is the secret code word for ‘yes’.”

These boys had nothing on what I’d seen. I was grateful for Nikki’s concern, but I didn’t have any interest in drinking, either. The idea of losing control, especially in a place like this, scared me. I’d never hear the end of it, though, if I didn’t at least look like I was drinking. For most of the people here, not drinking meant that you weren’t having a good time. Determined to drag out my drink then refill the bottle with water afterwards, I tipped back a mouthful of beer. It tasted gassy and heavy, but not as bad as I thought it would. Watching guys chucking back pints, I figured it must be an acquired taste. Grabbing a vodka and soda for herself, she pulled me back into the fray. It was obvious when she saw Ryan because her relaxed posture suddenly stiffened. He was chatting to a girl, and from the way she was pushing out her enormous tits and half rubbing up against him like a cat in heat, it was clear what she wanted. Ryan, on the other hand, didn’t seem at all receptive and was mildly amused at best. He didn’t push her away, but he wasn’t interested, either. I didn’t think Nikki realised how ambivalent Ryan was. She didn’t say anything, but her rage was palpable. Ryan glanced back to see us staring at him, and his face dropped. He knew what Nikki thought she was seeing, and his chances with her went from slim to non-existent. He practically shoved the slut aside to get to Nikki, but she was already beating a hasty exit.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” she mumbled, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Nikki,” I called after her. I wanted to reassure her about Ryan, but she was gone. Fan-fucking-tastic. I was alone at a party I didn’t really want to be at. I was too scared to drink, and now that Ryan and Nikki had disappeared, I literally knew no one there. The only thing worse than being at a party you weren’t actually invited to was turning up and realising that you didn’t know anyone else there. I was seriously contemplating cutting my losses and bailing, when someone touched my elbow.

“So, you made it then.” Even in heels Albie dwarfed me, but as he gave me his best cheesy grin, he looked about six years old. I sighed with relief when I realised I’d been rescued.

“Albie. I’m so pleased to see you!”

“Wow. What I wouldn’t give for a welcome like that every day.”

“It’s not like that,” I said, knowing he was teasing. “Some girl was rubbing up against Ryan. Nikki got pissed and Ryan’s gone after her, so I’m on my own,” I explained.

“The usual drama with those two then. Fear not,” he said, draping an arm across my shoulders and herding me toward his friends.

“I will be your host with the most tonight. After we gave you so much shit about coming to this party, I will personally make sure you have a good time.” I smiled at him and for the first time since I’d left Nikki’s door, it wasn’t forced. I still didn’t completely trust him yet. It wasn’t in my nature to give that gift away easily. But I did believe that I was well on my way to making another friend. After watching me struggle with my beer, Albie replaced it with a soft drink, for which I was very grateful. Ironically, without the fear of getting drunk, I relaxed a little more. He didn’t bombard me with questions or push me, but chatted about himself and told me funny stories about people he knew at the party. Not having to hold up my end of the conversation made it easier to chip in when I could. Eventually, some of Albie’s friends joined in, and as talk drifted toward the subject of the last party they’d all been to, I allowed myself to look for O’Connell. He’d mentioned that he was coming, but who knew whether he’d make it, and it was a big party. Even if he was there, he could have been anywhere. When I finally found him, all traces of his cocky smile were gone, and the blank look he always wore to fight was in place. He was shut down, giving his opponent absolutely no warning of the torrent of rage that was to come. Why then was that gaze was aimed squarely at me? He sat reclined against the sofa, his posture reeking of boredom, swigging occasionally from a bottle of beer. Although I recognised a couple of guys from the gym, other students mainly made up the group, all seemingly falling over themselves to impress the bad boy fighters. To O’Connell’s left sat a girl who was my complete antithesis. A hot pink t-shirt, that I suspected was sized for a child, was stretched tightly over her fabulously fake breasts. Add in some barely there skin-tight black shorts and some killer strappy black heels and her outfit, what little there was of it, was complete. Her long raven hair fell across her shoulders like black silk and settled on artificially bronzed skin that made her look voluptuous yet slutty all at the same time. She was every man’s ultimate fantasy. She had her legs coyly tucked in beside her on the sofa, and she leant her head against one hand whilst twirling another around a strand of her hair. She was leaning so far against O’Connell to whisper in his ear that she’d be sat in his lap in a minute, and all the while, he stared at me. I raised my hand to wave hello. It seemed only polite as we’d caught each other’s eye. But he just gave me a quick nod, not even a smile, in acknowledgement. I felt hurt by his indifference. Had Kieran been there I might have been brave enough to go over, but as long as he sat with that girl, I just couldn’t. I wondered if he was mad at me for not coming over when I first arrived. The girl had moved from hair twirling to rubbing her hands seductively up and down O’Connell’s chest. My stomach turned over as the disappointment built up inside me. I was jealous, and I had no right to be. It was better that way but damn if I hadn’t imagined what those granite abs felt like under the gentle touch of my fingertips. Just then, Albie placed his hand protectively against my back and bent down to ask me if I was all right. I smiled at him and answered that I was fine but when I glanced back at O’Connell, I was anything but. Any pretence at subtle flirtation had been abandoned, and they were halfway to having sex, right there on the sofa. She was straddling him now, her shorts pulled so tight I half expected them to split at the seams. She was nibbling and licking her way up his neck, like some dog who’d just found an ice cream cone on the pavement and was rushing to eat it before any other dogs turned up for a lick. He watched me stare at him in shock. Like a rabbit caught in the headlights, I couldn’t look away as he slid his hand up her thigh to grab her arse. He whispered something in her ear and didn’t look away from me as she answered him with a nod. My heart plummeted and I felt bile rising from my stomach as he gripped her and stood, so that she wrapped her legs around his waist. This must be a regular occurrence for O’Connell, because no one in their group batted an eye at their behaviour. He carried her across the room and down the hall to what I assume was a downstairs bathroom. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that he was doing her up against the sink. To say that his actions gutted me would have been an epic understatement. I was devastated. In my ridiculous little mind, I’d created the fantasy that he wanted my legs wrapped around him. Me who he’d giggle and cuddle with after. I picked at the hem of my top, wishing with all my heart that right then I was in sweats, curled up on my bed crying and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I was putting on a brave face and pretending that the first man I’d been attracted to for years wasn’t banging some slut in a bathroom like a street corner prostitute.